


A Vixen's Cherry Vodka

by freakshowcorpse



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), starker - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Bottom Peter Parker, Car Sex, Civil War Team Iron Man, Cocaine, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Gay Sex, Halloween, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Marvel Universe, Older Man/Younger Man, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Shameless Smut, Smut, Starker, Teen Peter Parker, Top Tony Stark, Trans Peter Parker, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 05:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakshowcorpse/pseuds/freakshowcorpse
Summary: Peter Parker dreamt of the perfect Halloween. And, what Peter wants, Peter gets.Most people settled for house parties and trick or treating, or perhaps a night in watching horror movies. But, the young demoness had other things in mind.





	A Vixen's Cherry Vodka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myself/gifts).



> Yo just read the tags, hate will be deleted.
> 
> I do seriously love feedback and I implore you to leave a comment. Shall I write more? Lemme know!  
> Kudos are much appreciated, too.
> 
> I RP Stucky, Thorki, Starker, Spideypool, & Winterfrost. Details at the end.  
> Thanks for reading! Enjoy. ♡

Halloween officially commenced the moment Peter Parker brusquely downed a cheap bottle of cherry vodka he’d stolen from the gas station hours prior. It gushed down his throat in stinging, rapid torrents, but the sheer feeling of it was too exhilarating to the nubile bodied teen to make him care. The taste of pure alcohol hit his tongue like a million miniature blizzard and the sweet, unnatural cherry flavor lingered. At barely eighteen, Peter felt invincible. 

He licked the remnants of the liquor off of the glass opening and the metal ball on his spade tongue clinked against it lightly. He'd gotten it pierced the day he’d turned eighteen and it had healed quite beautifully. It really accented his inner slut and brought truth to millions of scurrilous claims. (Not that he cared. He looked ravishing.) Simply remembering it was there at all tinted his cheeks a rosy pink. And, knowing how well it would look coupled with his skimpy costume, felt a certain thrill run through him. 

Which lucky bloke would he encounter tonight? Who would witness Peter’s infamous licentious endeavors during this All Hallows Eve? What a pretty thing he would be tonight - with succulent lips wrapped around the closest available meaty shaft, or trailing his new, shiny little piercing along a thick, veiny column of a gorgeous new man. 

Pins and needles found its way to his sinewy yet slender lil tummy. Fuck. He waited a while until the alcohol hit to steel himself before actually readying. If he so wished to pull off what he envisioned doing many many nights ago, he'd require the panache brought by his poison of choice. 

“Have fun, Peter!” Aunt May called out as she made her descent down the stairs. She worked late tonight, Peter grinned, as he listened in on the pitter-patter of her heels. Oh, he would be having fun. Little did she know the extent of his sin… 

“See ya!” He yelled back in his nasally, brittle voice. He was glad he was of legal age. Otherwise, he would have to abscond with a backpack stuffed full of rhinestones and tutu and makeup to dress in the subway restroom. He had earned his rightful title as a slut - he really didn't need to experience the whole hooker package. 

The front door slammed shut and the brunette leapt to his closet, which had received an upgrade from a particular goateed billionaire. Little did that man know that Peter had utilized new receptacles to stash more than just super suits. He drummed his fingers along the side of a shelf in an elaborate memorized sequence until a mechanical whir hummed. There was a click, and suddenly hidden compartments made themselves known. Out of the darkness came a shiny black silhouette of a mannequin head that held a gorgeous platinum blonde lace wig. Here lies the boy’s wide array of secret personas. He seemed to have a particular fondness for secrecy. He was apt to maintain various identities. 

Peter quickly pulled his large, bulky rhinestone embellished makeup kit and set it beside his floor to ceiling sliding closet door/mirror. A dainty finger pushed a button and the box blossomed like a flower, revealing contents such as (to name a few) pristine white and gold Tarte brushes, a plethora of false eyelashes, gems, Pat McGrath lipsticks (very pricey, about $40 a piece), creme foundation kits, and other lavish products to complete his kit. The bottom compartment held a decadent amount of eyeshadow palettes ranging from Urban Decay, Jeffree Star, Huda Beauty, and Juvia’s Place. Each piece had a different story to tell and the story of acquiring it all was just as wild as the fact that he had them stashed away. 

Beneath his vault of high end cosmetics sat cloths of hot, almost scandalous, shades of bright red. Alluring to the eyes of those just as ostentatious as the curly haired brunette. Peter cautiously set all of this onto the bed and when he turned to face his makeshift vanity, a playful smirk curled the corners of the plump lips sitting on his dangerously cherubic face. 

By the time he had finished, Peter was no longer a brunette. Instead, the little vixen had tousled, shoulder length platinum blonde locks, curled expertly to frame his youthful effervescence. His features had been contoured to perfection so his best assets were accented and enhanced. His lips were a devil red that matched striking ruby red cut crease eyeshadow that adorned his once pellucid eyelids. Black gel liner lined his eyes, drawn precisely behind an immaculate pair of voluminous falsies. Three red swarovski crystals adorned his forehead in a straight line betwixt two symmetrical, artfully arched eyebrows. He hardly looked like himself anymore, and he loved it. Crowning his blonde head were two shiny, pointed red horns. 

As if his makeup wasn't flamboyant enough, Peter was clad in a sumptuous, strikingly red off shoulder silk satin dress. Its straps hung in loose silk daintily draped over his small framed shoulders. The silk cloth ended over his waist and fanned out into a short, gigantic, fluffy chiffon skirt that barely covered a quarter of Peter’s shapely thighs. Its tail was much longer than the front as it extended all the way onto a small pool behind the feminine teen. He topped it all off, finally, by slipping a long pair of bright red stockings over his pedicured feet and onto creamy, velvety legs. Its red lace wrapped snugly around his thighs, and Peter nearly melted the moment it came on. He looked delectable. 

He clipped the metal clamp of the silky red garter belt that ran up his thighs onto his stockings and slipped on his shiny, black red bottoms. Peter posed in the mirror, beaming at his scantily clad reflection. Any drunk could easily pass him off as a hot bitch. He was glad he chose this dress… for the short skirt didn't leave much to the imagination of those who'd see him. Whoever he'd wind up in bed with would definitely get a rise out of simply spreading this little raunchy devil’s gorgeous legs apart. 

There was just something so satisfying with the realization that he could be just as pretty as the women he'd seen in billboards and the covers of magazines. He was captivating - ethereal, almost, and something in Peter rose and bloomed and he preened in the mirror. 

After snatching Aunt May’s black Gucci purse, he stuffed his own quilted Chanel wallet with three fresh fake IDs claiming him and his friends to be 21. In truth, they were only really halfway through the first semester of senior year. He hid three hundred dollar bills right behind these just in case the situation called for it. It couldn't hurt. And, he placed one of his anal plugs into a hidden pocket in the interior of the bag. 

 

* * *

 

Flashing lights enwreathed the exclusive nightclub’s atmosphere. Throbbing bass blasted throughout the building, its drums pulsing with the movement of the lively, costumed crowd. Even if he screamed, not a single soul would hear. He could feel the music on the soles of his feet and his bones. Cotton balls that were picked apart hung from every possible crevice as makeshift cobwebs. Lights reflected on it gave them a fun, spooky vibe. On the stage stood parodied movie ghouls and various women stomped about in their skimpy outfits. 

The club was so densely packed that it became easy to lose himself around the thrashing bodies of college sluts and future wastoids. Most faces bore the usual vacuity typical of barely turned adults, and most bodies were barely dressed in tattered cloth, fishnets, and what have you. Harley Quinn's, cats, slutty cops, bride of whoever and dead cheerleaders were all around. They were tawdry, sorry excuses for costumes, but Peter wasn't exactly out of place. 

Peter didn't recall much… besides winding up backstage after making out (and possibly fondling) Harry Osborn  _ and _ Mary Jane, Peter went ahead and snorted a line from the private bathroom’s white marble counters. It wasn't exactly private. Junkies and sluts crowded the small room, fixing their blow job smeared lipstick or their sex hair. Or straight up just fucking. 

None of that really fazed him. He watched himself on the linoleum floor, amazed by how he put himself together. He still hadn't found anybody, but maybe when the coke kicked in, he'd be fine. By then, he had lost his coterie and was on his own, but perhaps that was a good thing. 

And then he was on the stage, giggling as he danced and moved his hips. The way he swayed made his dress dance with him, and he felt so whole and happy, as if his chest could just burst. He felt absolutely weightless and carefree. Peter swore he was floating. It couldn't be true, but his feet felt like they didn't touch the ground. 

As he danced, he was sure bodies ground against him, but he didn't mind whatsoever. The music changed and suddenly he was screaming along to Rob Zombie and dancing to the thumping, loud music. 

And then, everything went black. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tony sighed to himself as he got off the phone with Ned. He was one of Peter’s nerd friends. “Happy, can you get the car ready. Please?” 

The man next to him dutifully and wordlessly arose. Happy vacated the room with a nod. 

Kid snuck into a club and got absolutely trashed. Tony wasn’t exactly disappointed - no, not at all - just surprised that Peter would do that. Kid seemed perfectly straight edge with not a single rebellious bone in his body. Peter had a proclivity for hard work and in general, being an overall good kid. You know - besides having a knack for sneaking out and increasing his chances of getting killed by tenfold. But anyway, he wasn’t the kind of kid to be getting pussy every day. He was too damn angelic. Hell, he acted like one of those pussy nerdy kids, too innocent to even fathom the thought of swallowing a single drop of alcohol. 

_ Boy was he fucking mistaken.  _

Honestly, this was the last thing he expected to be doing that night. Or, all, but he did promise himself that that kid was his responsibility the moment he first stepped into his hot Aunt’s modest household. So, Tony unceremoniously slipped a jacket over his casual shirt, dropped whatever he was doing, and left. The venue itself wasn't too far from the tower and it took all of ten minutes to get there. Spotting Peter wasn't exactly a challenge - he was on stage, dancing lewdly with drink in hand, barely recognizable, but Stark knew that budding little twink anywhere. 

Finding him this way was a surprise in itself. Finding Peter dressed like  _ that  _ takes the cake. No fucking way. Tony almost couldn't believe it. Truth be told, he was rather envious. Sobriety was fun and all, but Tony was a party goer at heart. If there was something in his past that he loved and actually missed, it had to be carefree partying and drug induced haze. From acid to coke, Tony did it all. He was so much worse than this. Decadence was just fucking magical. Sobriety was good and all, but he missed the days where he'd be piss drunk and did all sorts of crazy shit. Most of which, much to his chagrin, he shouldn't have ever even tried. 

But he came here for a mission and not to party. Through all the mess of drunken dancing, Tony made his way to the stage, pushing through the crowd for about five whole minutes, just in time to catch Peter fall on his ass. 

The next thing Peter knew, he was backstage. The music felt a million miles away. He was here, but not here, and now his feet  _ really  _ didn't touch the ground. Peter's face dropped when he realized he was being carried by a man, he supposed, because the manly cologne on them told him so. The scent was intoxicating, familiar,  but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. He  _ knew  _ full well that he's inhaled the very same rich, sensual aroma, but where? He pictured an older daddy, in a suit and tie, touching him with expertise. Peter didn't know why, but there was just something about the way older men ran their hands down his body that got to him. They were more careful to worship him, more erotic, and the thrill of fucking an older guy was an added bonus. 

He could very well have been date raped or worse - now he's being kidnapped. Peter panicked and shot up only to become eye level with the the goateed billionaire. He sighed and relaxed. Everything was in a haze, he noted, and he felt like he wasn't here. Part of him wasn't sure if he was there at all… and  _ anything  _ was possible. Shit, he could get away with a n y t h i n g. Meaning, she could do anything. Even  _ Tony fucking Stark _ . God, wouldn't that be a dream. He was older, more experienced, and just the thought of his larger hands running down Peter’s young body sent shivers down his spine… 

This is what he came here for. 

“Have you come to take me home, sir?” Cooed Peter. The longer he looked, the more he realized just how utterly captivated he was of him. Tony Stark was a stud… and for good reason. It all felt so surreal. 

_ Peter could do anything.  _

“Take me to your place… I need you, sir…” He gushed, his voice sultry. “Do you think I'm pretty?” He leant forward until the gap between them became nearly nonexistent. Immediately, Stark's stomach caught on fire and his heart leapt into his throat. Peter knew this. 

“Peter… come on, you gotta go home.” chastised the inventor. “This isn't appropriate…” Broken resolve was laced heavily in his dejected voice. 

“Awh, fine. But c’mon. It’s Halloween. Won't you have some fun? Please? Let's party!” And he put on butter eyes for subtle seduction and smirked, acting all bubbly and sweet.

“... Alright.” Tony bent and folded easily under his sly gaze. He’d so easily broke his supposedly wiser mentor’s resolve; the man practically became putty in his hands. He'd won. 

Lo and behold: 

Peter and Tony wound up in a secluded booth near the dance floor, drowned in red light and blaring speakers. On their table sat a metal plate with six white lines and a credit card. Some of which had wound up around the rim of their nostrils. In Peter and Tony’s hands were rolled up dollar bills with residue of the same white substance. Peter sniffed and giggled as Tony leant and took another line. The little slut watched as it quickly disappeared. In his dainty hand was a glass of cherry vodka, much or expensive than what he’d had before he left his home. It was a lot smoother, its alcoholic taste subtle and the cherry flavor way more pleasant than the aforementioned drink. When, suddenly, another bright idea dawned on the promiscuous cross dresser. 

“Let me snort it off ya!” Peter leered in an oh so seductive grin. His lips were perfectly red, bright, and plump, and so damn captivating that Tony couldn't pull his eyes away. He watched them move and god… his dick twitched. The only thing sweeter would be seeing those wrapped around his hard cock. 

Peter made it easy to forget who he truly was. As of now, he was no longer Peter Parker, young protégé working alongside the genius playboy, but a sterling wench that somehow managed to captivate yet another man twice his age.  

And who fucking knew what they were thinking, but soon enough Tony took that tray, pulled his dick out, and slid a line onto it. “Yeah, baby? This what you wanted?” he purred, as a glimmer of light caught Peter’s dilated, lust darkened orbs. 

“All my life.” Peter chimed. His hazel eyes could hardly believe what was currently witnessing. 

Tony Stark, eagle spread, just sitting there with his cock out and cocaine on the shaft of his dick, fully expecting Peter to  _ make contact with it _ and then  _ snort it off of him.  _ Well, Peter didn't wait a second longer lest he change his mind. Thus, he stuffed that bill in his bra instead and knelt down between the man's parted knees. He sniffed it without the use of anything else. Tony's soft yet hard cock brushes his skin, and the touch itself was so electrifying that it caused Peter to harden in his lace thong. Their eyes locked together. At that moment, Tony wanted nothing more than to disintegrate into the beautiful, vivacious, hazel eyed teen. It should have been wrong. His sole purpose of coming here was to pick Peter up to prevent him from doing stupid shit… and not, well, this. Even worse, Tony was more than half his age, and although that factor should have been the main deterrent to all this, Tony found Peter all the more enticing. 

Knowingly, Peter arose, powder still on his nose, and suddenly, Tony's arms yanked him down and pressed fervent kisses up and down his neck. Peter's knees fell weak instantaneously and he mewled, much to Tony's pleasure. Soft, wet lips worshiped what he believed to be innocent flesh. Those hands of his gripped Peter’s boyish hips and drew him near to his own, hard cocks straining against each other with nothing but fabric keeping them apart. Sporadic butterfly kisses trailed down the thin, pale column of his neck and to his defined chest and Peter watched the entire time. Do his eyes deceive him? Tony was really there, really worshipping his body. Was he not? 

“Oh, god…” Peter whined. Tony's beefy hands slid upwards the small of Peter's back and reached for the well concealed zipper. Peter lifted his long, slender legs and carefully coiled them around the older man’s waist. His smooth, divine thighs graced the cloth of his polo…

At that point in time, the commotion that surrounded them stopped being so overbearing and simply became the soundtrack to their sin. Their world revolved around one another and the heat of their bodies, the touch of their skin, and their sheer intimacy. Nothing else mattered. 

Tony stopped and shoved a kiss straight into Peter’s chest. Those hands of his halted and instead shifted to his thighs, memorizing every curvature of Peter's lithe form on the way down. His touch alone was enough to make his skin crawl and tingle in ways Peter had never felt before. Tony pulled Peter impossibly closer to his crotch before resuming his journey down. The teen shivered upon feeling a mere finger tip brush his bare skin. They rested upon those smooth thighs then Tony looked down, smirking at the sight of the contrast between pale skin and the bright red stripe of his garter. Now it was Peter who'd melted under his hungry gaze. 

“God, you're a little fucking slut, aren't you?” snarled Tony.

“You'll find out soon…” Chimed Peter. He was easy… not tacky. 

And then, somehow, they wove through the crowd and made it out of the nightclub. Neither were sure how they made it, but they did. Meaningless details remained fuzzy as the pair scrambled crudely to the very opulent, showy car that did nothing except announce Tony’s presence and turn envious heads. Neither cared to marvel its beauty, however, because they were rather preoccupied. Tony clashed their lips together in a mess of gnashing teeth and entangled tongues. Peter worried subconsciously about the red maquillage tinting his lips for a brief second but then, Tony found the handle unlocked when it easily came away in his hand. The pair clambered inside with Tony practically shoving Peter in. 

Happy was in there, still, and he did nothing but bury his nose in his phone to distract himself from the rambunctious duo. This stupid ass phase was supposed to be over years ago, Happy thought as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Yet here they were again. 

Once again, their lips collided, sloppy for what it's worth. Tony quickly divested himself of his shirt, but unable to hold himself off any longer, he unbuttoned his pants and ripped the long, dragging rail of Peter's obscenely red dress. Peter emitted a soft gasp as his dress became undone. But he was given no other chance to properly react because Tony pushed him forward, bent over to showcase his pretty ass framed by that red lace. Slender feminine arms wrapped around the back of the front passenger seat and his face rested on the smooth corinthian leather. From the mirror, the teen watched with wanton lust as Tony plucked his fly. That cock of his practically leapt out and rose to strain against his stomach. The man was huge - with a bulbous head that was thick all around. He was a lot more narrow around his base, and right below hung a pair of globular balls shaven down into perfect smoothness. Its shaft had stripes of angry veins running along its length. There was nothing the young boy could want more now than this. Peter instinctually arched his back, pushing to urge Tony to continue. His hard on came between his smooth, round ass and began to grind along his length. A deep, desperate moan rumbled from the depths of Tony's chest. He bucked his hips forward too, trying to increase the friction between them. 

“Oh, fuck..” Growled the inventor. He held Peter closer and trailed wet, hungry kisses down the small dip that ran up the boy’s spine. He went around Peter's shoulders and began to suckle his neck from behind. Tony finished a hickey by planting a soft kiss onto his now marked skin. More butterfly kisses trailed up his neck and stopped at the shell of his ear where Tony nipped at the skin. 

As Tony worshipped his body, Peter caught his reflection through the mirror. He looked so fucking stunning and he couldn't be any prouder. The mere lascivious depravity of it all was enough to pump blood right into Peter's hardened cock. 

Peter smirked, enthralled by his own beauty. Tony's hands found themselves feeling up Peter’s bovine ass, the skin perfectly pale and his little crack blushed over with a shy tint of pink. Just as his thighs had, there were two parallel silk straps running from the garter belt around his hips and down the back of Peter's delicious thighs. 

“You never answered me, daddy. Do you think I'm pretty?” 

“Like this? Fuck yeah…” His thumb found its way beneath the thin cloth. Peter shuddered at the sudden intruder, and even more when he suddenly became exposed. His gentle fingertip teased and stroked along the demoness’ sensitive ass. His breath hitched as Tony pulled his ass apart, revealing his puckered little hole. 

“Look at you. What a pretty little girl. Is this why you were dressed like a slut tonight? Huh? Yeah, you were gonna be a cheap lil whore tonight.. That was the plan, hm?” 

“Yes…” Peter whined. His cock yearned for contact, release, but he knew it would be a while. Shit, he could cum right now with Tony speaking to him like this. “Now I'm your little girl. Fuck me, please! Daddy” 

Happy didn't wait for them to finish to start the engine to bring the inebriated duo home. The sooner this was over the better. Figuring out the extent of his boss’ depravity was the last thing he needed.

Tony didn't need to be told twice. He bunched the hem of the red fabric in his hand and spat on Peter's ass to prep him. Not that he needed it, Tony would discover. The little demoness looked so ravishing as is, Tony didn't have it in him to fully undress the boy. Not when he looked so pretty. 

And Peter was just thrilled that Tony just  _ had _ to have him. Right then and there in this car with another man to witness it all. There was no waiting. Shit, he couldn’t even wait to pry all of Peter’s garments off before he could have him. 

Anyway. Tony shoved several digits between Peter’s willing and eager red lips. A playful tongue swirled around them and slicked them all up. He could feel the metal bar in his tongue, but chose not to play with it. “That's right, baby, get it all nice and wet cuz that's the only lube you're getting…” 

Peter purred and suckled around them. He bobbed his lil head around it before Tony gently plucked them out of his wet heat. Those same fingers pushed into him with ease and Peter neither whined nor writhed. Sure fire sign than he did have experience. All of Tony's restraint gave way and without further adieu, he positioned himself just outside of Peter's entrance. Peter turned his head to watch. Hungry eyes became entranced at the same spot where their bodies met and they held their breath. Peter was so small as compared to the inventor.. It was almost obscene. “There we go. Are you ready for me to fuck your lil pussy? That's what this is right? Hm?” 

“Please…” Peter whined under his breath. “Fuck my boy cunt.” 

And then, Tony's head sank in deep and disappeared into his hot, tight walls. Already broken in, Peter was more than receptive. Although the stretch left much to be desired, sinking into Peter meant everything. Tony's hips collided with Peter’s bubbly ass. His skin was flush against his younger counterpart. 

“There we go, baby… take it…” Gushed Tony. He threw his head back against the seat and took it all in for a second. Brown orbs locked at where they became conjoined, and  _ fuck  _ were they beautiful. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd be buried so deep in this kid, so sinfully close.

Slowly, he rocked his hips until he caught the perfect rhythm. Their movements synced - Tony angling his thrusts and Peter pushing right down to drive him impossibly deep. His large balls pressed into Peter's skin each time. 

Soon enough, the hot stud had Peter bouncing and moaning along the fat rod proudly protruding from Tony’s pelvis. Jewelry that adorned his neck and ears jumped and swayed with him. A flash of platinum blonde curls danced with each desperate stroke to get them both closer to the edge. The young slut gripped the seat for leverage and left crescent shaped welts in his wake. His pretty face became contorted with pleasure. The older man’s mechanical thrusting sent waves of pleasure throughout Peter’s little body that made his eyes roll into the back of his head and left his lips parted. Endless cries of pleasure rolled off of Peter's tongue. 

And then, suddenly, Tony shifted, and a ripple of intense shock waves wracked Peter's body. He screamed and curled his toes. He held the seat so tight, he knew it would never be the same again. 

“RIGHT  _ THERE!!”  _ Screeched Peter. His mentor perfectly angled his thrusts and targeted what must be his soon to be battered prostate. 

Peter threw his head back and allowed Tony's blunted head to kiss his sweet spot whilst ploughing into him.

It didn't matter at all that Happy was still there. Fuck it, honestly, he could wank himself off there if he wanted and neither would care. Speaking of… 

A wet hand suddenly gripped Peter’s leaking dick. As if thing couldn't get any better, Tony began to jerk the well endowed teen to the same rhythm of their movement. “Fuck, look at you!” Hissed Tony. Peter felt so good in his hands. “Come on, baby, you're close aren't you? Come on, cum for daddy!” 

"Yes, oh my god, yes!!" He whined when encouraged, his cries of pleasure became much louder. "Fuck me, Tony! Harder, daddy. Please!"    
  
Peter's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Pins and needles took over his body, and his mind drew completely blank. Perpetual waves of pleasure reverberated against his skull and flowed to the rest of his body, which he soon found he had not much control over. The world revolved around this, and only this. Animalistic moans and the sound of skin hitting against skin disturbed the otherwise silent car. The car shook in place as it stood still in front of red traffic lights. with tinted windows a shade of gray with perspiration. Heat radiated from their entangled bodies, causing the darkened windows to become streaked with droplets. Their bodies glimmered with sweat so artfully that it accentuated every little defined muscle and bone. 

The mentor’s thrusting became jagged and unruly, erratic, almost, and he was sure to leave Peter sore in the morning regardless of what experience he's had in the past. Loud moans turned into breathy squeaks and growls emanated from within the latticework of scars that was Tony's chest. An extreme fiery heat of pressure overtook Peter’s senses. Intense waves of pleasure shocked his body and somehow, if it were possible, he became even more overwhelmed with such sensations. At that point, he could hardly muster a moan anymore. All he could do was let go of short gasps. 

His cock burned, and he felt like he could just explode right then and there. Tony's hands on his body, the constant thrusting, the hand on his dick… it all became too much to bear at once. Tony figured. So, he wrapped his hands around Peter's hips and did the thrusting for him. 

“Cum for me…” He coaxed. 

Everything went black. 

And then, suddenly, when he came to, a loud screech erupted from his lips and he felt himself spasm. Hot come shot out of the boy and the front passenger seat became slick with his seed. His limbs became numb and he shuddered. As he came, Peter's walls suddenly clenched and tightened around the monster pounding into him. It was like Peter was milking him… 

Tony punched his cock as deep as he could into the tight heat and bit into Peter's neck. 

Soon he was flooding the walls wrapped around his cock with hot cum. 

Eager to please, the lascivious little trooper continued to move his limp body, riding out their orgasm until the last waves of pleasure ceased. But Tony hardened once more at Peter's slow thrusts. And, knowingly, he turned Peter to face him. Their lips met once more, but this time their lips danced slow, chaste. Those rouged lips tasted just like one of Pepper’s expensive lipsticks. Their lips lingered over the other as they pulled away. They took labored breaths until they steeled themselves. It was only then that Happy’s absence became apparent. He took his leave when they were too busy to notice. 

“You're going to my house… and you'll spend the night. Got it?” went Tony. Only then did Peter slide off of Tony's hot, wet shaft, and he was left slightly gaping. It felt empty and Peter detested that feeling. Warm cum leaked from betwixt Peter's thighs and dried on the tight garter of his red stockings. Also something he hated. Peter snatched his borrowed purse and dug around until a cold metal plug were in his grasp. He had a full set of anal plugs - this happened to be one with a ruby red jewel. Tony took this from him, licked it, and gently parted Peter's legs. It was he who pushed it into the messy boy’s entrance. 

The car had stopped. Awhile ago, as a matter of fact. Everything was quiet. The reality of what just happened between the two began to sink in. They had two choices - never speak to each other again and avoid one another at all costs, or perhaps continue… 

Honestly, he never expected Peter to turn out like this. He wondered curiously what other alteregos were kept at the back of his closet. Exploring this side of him seemed particularly alluring… And, as his guardian, Tony shouldn't allow Peter to allocate what sense of dignity and integrity he had left to random men. The kid was meant to be something more. He wasn’t spending money to fund Peter’s scholarship to just let the boy run around. He’s spent time, money, and nonexpendable resources on suits and opportunities for Peter. Allow him to be reduced into a common whore would waste it all. And, after all he’s done, shouldn't Tony get something back? So, just like that, the genius promptly made up his mind after minor rationalization. 

“Can't have my protégé whoring around, can I? I'm your daddy now, baby.”

Peter smirked, cuddling into the man's chest. A dainty hand reached to stroke Tony's erected, though partially flaccid cock. It was big and beautiful, it felt soft in his hands, and it fit so perfectly. “Yes, sir.” Peter purred. “I'm all yours.” 

“Show me. Worship my cock.” 

The teen grinned and leant down almost instantaneously. He was too eager. But if there was one thing he knew best, it was pleasuring men. He prided himself for that. The boy excelled at most things and this was one of his expertise.

As if dreams came true... Peter began by planting a soft kiss to the sensitive, leaking slit. No doubt he could taste himself on the man's dick. But he didn't care. And then his pretty, metal decorated tongue delved out and teased circles around his swollen head, buttery eyes watching as Tony's chest heaved with a relaxed sigh. Peter's lips were curled into a sly grin the entire time. He could picture himself, smirking up at Tony with his perfect, beaming face and luscious lips. Long lashes and a gorgeous cock hanging in front of him. He was truly a sight to behold. The very way Tony couldn't keep his eyes from Peter's playful grin and that shiny stud protruding from his tongue was thrilling enough to drive Peter to do more. It wasn't long before the teen took in every inch and had his cheeks hollowed around the thick member. His head bobbed rhythmically along it while a hand fondled his heavy balls, talented tongue wiggling in all the right places. His lips twisted around his bulbous head and slid down all the way until his lil nose became flush against the shaven pubis. Every inch was pleasured and worshipped - going as far as literally placing kisses all over it. Peter's laudable performance easily got the older man to writhe and moan. Precum leaked from him and Peter loved to make a show of licking it off. But then the older man laced large hands into the blonde mess and guided Peter along his dick again - not that he needed guidance. Before long, he could feel himself drawing close. 

Before he could finish, Tony brought the boy into his bed that same night to properly claim and desecrate his new inamorato. But of course, their decadent escapade ended with passionate love making. By sundown, his small frame was littered with pristine bruises. Tony's back had been raked down by sharp nails. Giant claw marks ran from his shoulders to the small of his back.

Neither would be able to function without a very obvious reminder as to what took place behind closed doors for the next following days. 

**Author's Note:**

> To RP, I use Kik & Tumblr. My tumblr is 5050dead. Discord is 5050dead. Email is freakshowcorpse@gmail.com. Ask for Kik. We can use Instagram, but I'm not too fond of the way DMs are formatted.
> 
> I'm not a fan of BDSM, I think it's tacky, and I really don't care much for it. I think spankings are lame, tacky, and overrated, so don't try. Miss me with that dom/slave bs. I've got a slight daddy kink, but not ABDL, so no thanks.  
> You won't be catching me saying some cheesy shit like "yEs pLs spANk Me dAdDy!!1!"
> 
> Buuuut other than that I'm perfectly corrupt. I'm cool with age gaps, noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, orgies, incest, loss of virginity... I'd expand more about what I'm into, but privately. (NO scat, NO throw up, NO furry shit.)
> 
> AND I ALSO DO FLUFF SO HMU pls ty I've got so many plots, I've got all the plots


End file.
